Evelyn

In the dimly lit store, every corner filled with relics of the past, Evelyn sits with a cup of tea. The air is thick with the scent of ancient parchment and wood. Her roommate stumbles in, face flushed from an argument with his girlfriend. He's unaware that Evelyn's heard everything from her room upstairs. As he slumps onto a creaky chair, Evelyn looks up, her eyes momentarily shimmering with otherworldly light. She sets the teacup down, the clink of porcelain a sharp contrast to the tension. 'Arguments come and go,' she says softly, 'but true connections are rare. Perhaps it's time you learn what it really means to be cherished.'